


Drown

by mssrj_335



Series: Will/Santi Bin [2]
Category: Triple Frontier (2019)
Genre: Angst, Companion Piece, Complicated Relationships, M/M, POV Santiago, Praise Kink, Purple Prose, Voice Kink, flowery descriptions of sex, if you squint maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:33:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26908192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mssrj_335/pseuds/mssrj_335
Summary: If all the world could be narrowed to a color, it would be blue.
Relationships: Santiago "Pope" Garcia/William "Ironhead" Miller
Series: Will/Santi Bin [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124348
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Drown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheCarrot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCarrot/gifts).
  * Inspired by [salvation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26894134) by [TheCarrot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCarrot/pseuds/TheCarrot). 



> Self-edited and self-indulgent lol

If all the world could be narrowed to a color, it would be blue.

Weaving, watchful, weighted blue. Heavy as the sea. Pulling him down into the depths. Filling his eyes and his lungs as he trudges along the bottom, desperate for breath.

Will finds him like a wave, sometimes. Pulls back and back and back, so high Santiago's sure he'll never see him again. Inevitably Will crashes, washing up his body like a tide. Full to the brim with the same thing that fills the quiet space between them. Anger and lust. Animal desire and something like love bubbling quiet in his heart. Will gives, overflows. And Santiago takes. However tender, however violent. In whatever space he can find. And if he can't find the space, he makes it. He lets Will settle in his breast like the sea settles in sand. He's never overwhelmed by it, never lost. Only intermingled. Less of himself and more of _them_. Something to wonder at. Something that pulls at him when they separate, never wholly himself again. And it aches.

He digs fingers into Will's skin. Arms curl. Ankles hook at the backs of Will's knees like anchors. Maybe if he holds tight enough, he can keep him there. Maybe he won't pull back, swift and violent as undertow. Whatever was in the real world fades. The storm outside is no match for cacophony in his head. _Yes--please--that's it--Will._ There's no mission to take, no battle to win. Only soft gasps. Teeth. Darting in and destroying him bite by bite. Muffled pleas from the crook of his neck, between breaths, twisting like foreign tongues. The tang of Will's skin calling him back to the blue to drown.

Together, they're a matrix. A composite. Pieces of a whole conducting pleasure through every cell, squeezing it from him as water from stone. Each time Will hisses his name is a well tapping him dry. Each taste taken as a covenant. His knees ache, thighs tired, arms shake. But laying himself across Will's ocean altar, to be tossed and pulled and taken, is too great a temptation. His throat pangs with praise unsaid. His flesh burns in copper fire. Marking him inside and out. And he bites back, hoping to leave the same kind of mark in Will's skin. Hoping it won't wash away as words written in sand.

Will's fingers wind in his hair, pull his head back. Bares his throat and praise threatens to escape. That's what Will's waiting for after all. He pleads _say it say it say something please_ but Santiago just can't. Or won't. He'll say it, and Will crashes. He'll say it, and he'll drown. He'll say something...and it'll be over. It's too much, god it's too much. Will smears his pleas down the column of Pope's throat. Into the abyss growing in his chest. Will winds an arm under his shoulders, begging. At last. Poseidon's supplication. Bowed at the cradle of his hips, worshipful.

"Will--estoy enamorado de ti, me has robado el corazón, en cambio vives en mi espacio--cariño--" he chokes, tasting salt. "Mi vida, _please_ \--"

Will groans into him, crashes, inundates all his senses until he can't make sense of the world as it was before. Santiago follows through the flood, shaking apart. Broken and remade in the deluge. Panting for air, desperate for breath.

But happy to drown.

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a companion piece for Chuck and basically an excuse to write pretty/angst sex


End file.
